http://slow.writerscafe.org/breepotter The original writings of author Bree Potter en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776042775 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I saw Time up on my path.His shadow leapt,  hisflesh drew downditch and vines. He turned. His wrathWas wild. He wore a hollow crown. It scraped the sky with antlers ancient: sticks without leaf, worn by wind. A veil masked his face, his auburn hair was rent. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/breepotter/1270958/ Homestead Spring The house snug in pasture, manure and wheat. We�"a family with the dog with mud in her ears�"were one in that gilded-tide, slosh-in-the-wind sea.Each of us wanted winter. Summer The fires were fo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/breepotter/1270957/ Binary Opposition  I would cry. And I think I have much to cry about,A young girl chained in the prison of himself.She is this masculine skin,This spinning of her father’s frame,formed in the image of men.But she is also and cannot help but be her m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/breepotter/1270955/ Circles: Four HaikuBig Bend asterismsspread like webs of spider eyes;Lights mostly dead. Shadows followFeet. Feet through shadows shuffle.Bells toll bells toll bells My alarm clock kickedIt. Circadian hours snapped.Hands unwound and bled. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/breepotter/1266119/ Bird-Watching, pt. 1                        Note: the least tern isconsidered endangered in New Mexico and has been all butwiped out completely in several parts of thest.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/breepotter/1265522/ An ekphrasis on a disintegrating billboard along a west Texas highway. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/breepotter/1265102/ You won’t want to run. And the gloom ofit Bites at you. There, in shadow, lie in wait the ones without the thing, the Flickering,the torch you bear, you: the shade,frail, afraid.And they see you and scrabble for this thing, to gobble it gone and give ruin to thereve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/breepotter/1265025/ An ekphrastic poem on Ansel Adam's "The Jeffrey Pine". I adore his photography. It's lithe, organic, tenuous, and delightfully free of pretense. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/breepotter/1264655/ Written about a small, untamed woodland near my suburban home. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/breepotter/1264618/